


A day away.

by Penstrokes



Series: the request collection [2]
Category: Super Science Friends (Cartoon)
Genre: 50th fic for SSF on AO3, Gen, art trade kind of, someone drew me a few Oppenheimer pics so I gave them this fic in return, wasn't even aiming for that but hey I caught one this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 22:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: Everything rode on this project, this atom bomb. The lives of men, the course of history and of course, all of their respective scientific careers.Oppenheimer needs to get away from it all, to remember what it's like to be a face in the crowd again.





	A day away.

Time ticked on as it always did. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. It all became a meter for how many lives were lost in this global battle. A world against itself, a war for ideology and freedoms, paid for by the lives of those on the front lines and the victims who had no say in their fate.

 

Oppenheimer knew as much as any other of the scientists carefully chosen and handpicked on the project how precious those hours were. Every waking moment was dedicated to hastening the end of the war, of perfecting the perfect weapon. Theories, calculations and experimentation all racing towards a single goal. A project so secret they were bound to this place, their lips sealed until who knew how long.

 

Until the end? Until forever?

 

Oppenheimer knew that it was for the safety of so many things, himself, the project, the country, for him to stay on the compound where they were all guarded. The allure of escaping back into the real world where he wasn’t The Robert Oppenheimer of one of the biggest and most important projects in mankind but rather simply another man who liked his girls and his drink. The itch for anonymity and freedom was too much for him to bear. The desire for a moment of freedom overcame him.

 

He could say he tried if he got caught. 

 

Of course, that was only technically true. 

 

Oppenheimer had his ways of escaping the compound, not that he would ever let  any of the other scientists find this out. This was his little secret that was his and his alone. 

 

Besides, it was 'bad' enough that one scientist got out, but all of them at one point or another? Well, sure, not every scientist on the project would be so eager to risk both life and limb for a breath of fresh air unsupervised and unmoderated. 

 

Good for them, he supposed. Oppenheimer may have been loyal to the project but he was only human and weren't humans, at least in America, obligated to freedom?

 

Oppenheimer had always loved sand. It held it’s own beauty and charm.  Most people wouldn’t look at sand and think pretty. The knowledge that sand was what it was added to the appeal. Even mighty mountains who tickled the sky were not immune to the passing of time. There was very little that was permanent. Only fools that people could, in any capacity outlive oblivion and obscurity. Great civilizations themselves would fall inevitably.  It was all poetic, really. A driving motivation for him to keep moving forward with his scientific pursuits. Time was limited. Even if everything was eventually forgotten and lost, it didn’t mean it wasn’t worth going after. 

 

Oppie managed to hitch a ride into the nearest town some hundred miles away from the base. It wasn’t far enough, in his opinion but it was enough for him to breathe. It wasn’t a big town but it felt like home enough. 

 

The bar was a familiar sight. Not this one in particular but any bar at all. He walks in, a fatigue in his stride as he sits down at the counter, tipping his hat.

 

“I’ll have a Martini, if you’d be so kind, sir.” He orders, traces of tension never fully leaving him. There was always the off chance he’d be noticed. Either here at the bar or back on the base. The heat of the outside permeates indoors, kept at bay if only in a futile effort by the ceiling fan. It doesn’t take long for the drink to arrive, it’s more the sight of the familiar and long longed for glass that makes him perk up. Oppenheimer brings the glass to his lips and lets the bitter taste wash over him as if to take away the stress of it all. The worry that this project won’t work, the invisible counter hanging over their heads. Relishing the release it brings, Oppenheimer orders another, taking the olive and eating it. The minutes crawl by as he sits there, lounging about. He takes a minute, looking around at the people- the regulars he figures- relatively relaxed compared to the scientists. How blissfully unaware they are of one of the biggest projects in the history of mankind taking place only a little more than a hop and a skip away from this place. 

 

By now it’s his fourth Martini and the alcohol is starting to affect him. Any other time and it would have been welcome. Not this time, it’d have to be another.  He could only pray that the men at the base wouldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. At least that he could try and down play, if he was too drunk, then, well. This might be his last outing, depending on how much trouble he was in. 

 

Pushing away from the counter and pulling out some bills, Oppenheimer walked back outside into the full force of the heat. The scientist could feel himself smiling, it’d be perfect beach weather. The comfortable burning sensation of sand mixing with the coolness of the water running over his feet. Closing his eyes, Oppenheimer could just about hear the sounds of people laughing and yelling, the surf crashing onto the shore. Just barely, he could feel the salty spray. It was so close he could almost taste it, so far away from all the stress and worry of science. Just one step into his own self made paradise and he could just be a normal man again. 

 

So much riding on this project, this bomb of all bombs. 

 

They were the brightest minds the government could gather and yet they were all just human. Small, humans with only the most limited of lives to devote to the project. If all went according to plan, if they succeeded, they not only put an end to the war that razed the earth in both body and soul, but they would have unlocked something the world had never seen before.

 

The splitting of an atom, the hidden, inherent power of what made up the universe. 

 

Oppenheimer took a breath and reluctantly relinquished his own little paradise, his haven from expectations. He opened his eyes, the beach was gone and so were the people. They had never been there in reality and he knew it. That piece of paradise existed only in his head, the smallest piece of heaven, if such a thing existed, was his saving grace.

 

It was time for him to return to that place where history and science were at a cross roads. Time for him to take his place amongst it all. Taking one last longing look at the outside world, J. Robert Oppenheimer headed back. 

 


End file.
